Of Monsters and Men
by Ria sama
Summary: Take heed, Gale, for he who fights monsters should see to it that he himself does not become one.AU
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights of the Hunger Games, obviously.

I know this idea has probably occurred to someone else before me, but this is my take, and I hope you'll enjoy.

I've always found Gale's character very interesting, and I was thinking about how different he and Katniss would approach the Hunger Games. Unlike Katniss, who is a very passive-aggressive person, Gale is a man of action. He's very forward and is willing to do things a lot of others aren't willing to. In Mockingjay, Gale does a couple of things that could be considered amoral or wrong. And that's with Katniss and friends there to advise him and keep him in line. In the Hunger Games? All the dark things about his personality would be set loose.

So this is that. Gale in the Hunger Games, fighting for survival, and fighting to keep himself good.

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Part 1

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_We are accidents waiting, waiting to happen._

I can't sleep all night. Still, I remain perfectly still, Posy curled up in my arms, her head leaning against my chest and tiny feet tucked under me to fight off the cold. Vick is on my other side, also leaning towards me and the warmth I provide. I can see Rory and Mother on the other, smaller bed. Rory's face up and is almost at the edge of the bed, one foot and arm actually touching the ground. Mother's holding Rory's other hand, bent towards him and breathing softly. I smile, because I know as soon as Rory wakes he'll snatch his hand back, loudly saying that he's too old to be holding his mothers hand, even in sleep. Then my smile turns into a frown, as I notice that Mother's eyes are still red rimmed from crying yesterday.

We had a fight, same as every other year. Ever since I was 14, I've been trying to tell her that she has to prepare for everything in case I get picked for the Hunger Games. She always gets angry, saying "You _won't_ get picked" with such certainty that sometimes I even believe her. I try not to get mad at her, really try, because it's almost too easy for me to put myself in Mother's shoes and see things from her perspective. In some ways, I'm more of a parent than a brother to Rory, Vick and Posy, and my heart clenches and I feel a deep pit in my stomach thinking about what would happen if any of them were reaped and I couldn't do anything.

So even though I sympathize with Mother, I can't help but get frustrated with her when she simply won't accept that it's a possibility- a _very real_ possibility that I'll get reaped.

Yesterday's fight was short, thankfully, but stressing for both her and me. Everything that has to be said has already been said a thousand times, and this is my last reaping. After today, our arguments will all be resolved, one way or another. Then she's going to be fighting with Rory, and Vick, and eventually even Posy… but I try not to think about that if I can.

My frown deepens when I contemplate the problem of getting out of bed without waking Vick or Posy. I manage, eventually, to slide out, but Posy being a light sleeper like me almost wakes up, frowning, mumbling and turning around in my arms until I lay her back on the bed besides Vick.

I dress silently, putting on a pair of trousers, a worn shirt, the vest where I always keep an assortment of odd things- strings, wires, needles, hooks… whatever I might need to quickly stitch up any trap or snare that might have broken provisionally. Then I throw on my leather jacket and boots, slide my hunting knife into my left shoe and get ready to go.

I look back once at my family, see Posy still frowning, now facing Vick just like I left her, notice that Vick hasn't moved at all since he fell asleep, a little drool escaping his mouth and into the mattress, then at Rory and Mother. My breathing stops for a second when I notice that Mother's eyes are looking straight at me, and try to control the little boy in me who is still terrified of being caught by his parents while sneaking out, but I make the emotions disappear after a tiny moment of conflict, I'm 18, not 12. Mother's obviously still a bit asleep, looking a little confused as she looks up at me.

"Gale? It's still night out" she whispers so as not to wake up the children. I swiftly cross the room and kneel by the bed, stroking her dark hair, exactly the same shade as mine, to soothe her and try to get her asleep again.

"Yeah. I'm going to go see if I can catch something to trade for the early market. I'll be back at midday to help with the kids." I whisper.

Mother sighs, nodding. She curls up closer to Rory, holding him as if he were Posy's size, in an unconscious gesture of protection. I feel a little guilty as I leave the house, but shrug it off as soon as I step outside. The moon is hidden by clouds, but I can see a lot of stars in the sky still, they offer some meager amount of light, and the pre-dawn chill makes me shiver and zip up my jacket, but I set off towards the woods at a brisk pace anyways. It is probably around 4:30 in the morning, so it's only me in the dirt streets of the Seam.

District 12 is separated by a fence from the woods, and I have to crawl under it to get to the other side. It's supposed to be electrified, both to keep out animals and to discourage poachers like myself, but District 12 is poor, and keeping the fence on means wasting electricity and money that could be used within the District, so it stays off. I cross the field and go into the woods. A couple of steps in, I stop and breathe in.

I walk aimlessly around for a long time, trying to calm the turmoil inside me that always arises on reaping day. Eventually I catch a couple of decent sized squirrels, and head back to District 12. The sky is lighter when I get back, probably a little before 6 still, though without a watch I can't really tell. I go into the wealthier part of town. Obviously its still part of 12, so no one is actually rich, but the merchant class does have a better living standard than us in the Seam. I can smell the freshly baked bread blocks away from the bakery, and my mouth waters, so I head in that direction.

The baker is putting out the bread, just as I thought, so I head to the back door and knock. The baker is a nice man, blond and bulky, with crowfeet around his kind eyes to indicate that even though his life, just like the life of all of us in District 12 is unjust, unfair and despairing, he still finds things to smile about. He's a quiet, but polite man.

"Good morning Gale" he says and I bow my head a little in greeting as well.

"Good morning Mr. Mellark, I was wondering if you'd trade me these squirrels for a loaf of bread?"

He's obviously feeling sorry for me, knowing that today is not going to be easy, so he gives me a fresh out of the oven loaf for only one of the squirrels. It surprises me, but I'm grateful, and wave awkwardly goodbye when he calls out a "good luck" to me.

…Yeah, I'm going to need luck today.

I sell the other squirrel to the butcher, getting a couple of coins in return, then head back to the woods. I wait, lying down between the rocks and grass, seeing the sky change colors, for Katniss. When I see her coming towards me, I smile. She's wearing her hunting clothes, her long braid tucked into her jacket and her bow in one hand.

"Hey Catnip" I call out to her, and show her the loaf of bread, that I've speared with an arrow just to see her laugh. She does, and I can feel myself relax just by being in her presence. Katniss looks like me, looks like everyone from the Seam, dark hair, olive skin, grey eyes, unlike the merchants, who tend to be pale, light eyes and light hair. She's younger than me,16, and my best friend.

We talk and eat the bread, together with goat cheese that Katniss' sister Prim made for us and some wild berries. The meal fills me up pretty well, and even though its reaping day, we try to enjoy it, joke about the terrible fate that awaits us at 2 this afternoon. We simply spend time relaxing in each others company. I look at Katniss as she closes her eyes and savors her food, and think, like I so often do, about running away with her. She's very beautiful, very strong, and maybe it's the day or maybe it's just that I've never been one to stay silent about what I'm thinking about that I open my mouth.

"We could do it, you know". She blinks at me in confusion.

"What?"

"Leave the district. Run off. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it." I tell her. It's a mistake, I can tell, to say this. Katniss' face has always been very expressive, very open, and I've had 4 years to get to know her, ever since we both took to the woods, trying to provide for our family's who'd lost out fathers in a mining accident. I've had years to know what she's thinking by just the barest twitch of a muscle in her face, and right now, she thinks it's a ridiculous idea, so I try to fix it.

"If we didn't have so many kids" I say, and she relaxes minimally. She probably thinks this is something I've just thought up, haven't thought through. But I have. If she'd agree, I'd tell Mother, get her to pack up, take Rory and Vick and Posy into the woods. Katniss could take her mother and little sister Primrose as well. Maybe even the goat. We could go in pretty deep, find a place well protected. I could build us a house, we could live of the land, be happy and never have to worry about Panem, about District 12, about the Hunger Games. We could start a family. Then, as if she's reading my thoughts, Katniss shoots the idea down.

"I never want kids" I look at her sideways, she's frowning.

"I might. If I didn't live here" I say carefully, but she just glares at me.

"But you do," she says, irritated. I get annoyed as well. She can be very dense when she wants to, and even though I've been trying to show her how I feel about her, how little by little I've been falling in love with her, she's just been incredibly obtuse about it all.

"Forget it." I snap, and we leave it at that.

We spend the morning fishing, Katniss just enjoying the day, me trying to forget our earlier argument. We catch a good amount of fish, a bunch of greens and pick strawberries to take back. We make a pretty good profit in the Hob, the Seam's black market, and then set off to town to sell the strawberries. We usually get a good price from the Mayor, so we go there, and it's the Mayor's daughter who answers the door. The girl, I can vaguely remember her name starting with M, is wearing very expensive clothes. A white dress, a pink ribbon, a gold pin.

"Nice dress" I tell her, and she looks at me, wondering if I'm making fun of her or actually complimenting her. A little bit of both, actually, but mostly I'm just ticked that what she's wearing could probably get me and my family good food for a couple of months.

"Well, if I end up going to the capitol, I want to look nice, don't I?" she says, and my face goes blank after a second. I can feel the anger that's always boiling in me spill over a bit, and snap back.

"You won't be going to the capitol" I tell her, trying to control my voice and face. "What can you have?" I wonder aloud, "Five entries? I had six when I was just 12 years old."

The girl's face has become stony as well. It's something you learn from an early age if you live in 12, how to disguise your emotions and thoughts, so that no one can know if you are thinking rebellious thoughts, like I so often do. I hear Katniss and the girl say goodbye, and head back home. Katniss looks at me from time to time, frowning.

She doesn't understand, not really. Katniss knows the system is wrong. Knows that I hate the Capitol, hate the government, for forcing me, for forcing _us_ to pick up Tesserae, to be put in danger. I've got 42 entries in the death bowl condemning me, Katniss has maybe 20, and she's still got 2 years to go.

But Katniss is passive aggressive. Unless something affects her directly she won't _do_anything to change, and its one of the most frustrating things about her. She's incredibly talented, incredibly beautiful, but also incredibly indecisive.

"Wear something nice" I tell her snidely when we part, and try to control my anger before heading inside my own house. Posy jumps me as soon as I'm inside the door, screaming happily to see me and tugging on my pant leg to let her see what I've brought. I leave the food- fish, salt, bread, and strawberries all on the table, then I pick up Posy and kiss her cheek. She squeals happily.

"Gaaa-leeee! You haven't shaved!" she says, rubbing her cheek but grinning anyways. I put her down and rub Vicks head, messing up his still wet hair. He squawks indignantly.

"Gale! I _just_fixed it!" he hisses, and I laugh a bit at him, then look toward Rory. He's sitting on his bed, arms and legs crossed, glaring at the wall. I sigh, and catch Mother's eye. She looks resigned, shakes her head. Today is going to be very difficult for Rory. It's his first reaping, and he's nervous. Besides, lately he's decided to be difficult, entering that stage when teens tend to be rebellious with family and friends. I get it, because I was the same, but its still annoying to have to deal with a boy who wants comfort but doesn't want to show it.

"Hey Rory," I say casually, walking towards the wooden furniture that holds all my clothes, and all the family's clothes. "Join me out back will you?"

I don't wait for his answer and instead take a rough towel, the clothes and go outside. I don't actually take a bath, since our shower has been kind of off for a couple of days, but strip down to my underwear and take the water hose and spray myself with it. It's cold, so that prompts me to be fast. The neighbors daughter, a 13 year old girl whose name I don't know squeals and heads back into her own house. I let water run down my head, then shake it to get the excess water off my hair. Rory yelps behind me after coming out, getting wet, and I grin.

"Sorry" I say, quickly toweling off and putting on my clothes. I take a bar of soap and lather it into my face, then with my knife and a cracked mirror we have outside start shaving. It's just a bit of stubble on my face, but between the Mayor's daughters dress and Posy getting all fussy about my scratchy face, I decide to get rid of it.

Rory's stayed quiet since he got outside so I try to get him to talk.

"Did you help Mother this morning with Posy and Vick? You knows how she gets on reaping day" He grumbles a bit, shuffles his feet but nods.

I smile a bit at him. "Good. You don't have to be worried you know, the odds are very much in your favor" I tell him, trying to lighten the mood.

It's true, even though he's put his name in twice this year for the extra tessera. Two slips of paper is a very low chance of reaping. Next year Rory will have to put his name in at least thrice, but probably more, and I'm really angry about that, because I'll be out of the sorting, and so unable to help. But that's a year from now, so he's still relatively safe. My words don't have the effect I thought they'd have, and Rory clenches his fists and glares at me. Surprised, I nick my cheek a bit and stop shaving. I'm pretty much done anyways.

"You _stupid_…It's not _me_ I'm worried about!" Then he looks away and I can see tears gathering on his lashes, but he refuses to let them fall.

_Oh._

Well, Damn. I don't know what to say to that, so I clean my face with more water, rub the towel on my face, thinking. Then I go over to him and kneel in front of him, like my father used to do with me. A pang goes through my heart thinking about him. It feels weird, imitating my father like this, but out of us all I think Rory and Vick took Dad's death the worst. I had to grow up fast, yes, but at least I had a pretty okay childhood for a Seam kid.

Rory and Vick _knew_Dad, knew how capable and good he was at being there for us, and then, suddenly, he was gone, and all they had was me. That's pretty rough for a 6 and 8 year old. They know I'm not him, unlike Posy, who probably thinks of me more as a father than a brother anyways. I close my eyes for a second, try to think what Dad would say to me, then stare right back at Rory.

"Rory, listen. I know the odds aren't great, but I might not be picked-"

He interrupts me before I can finish. "You've got your name in the bowl _42_times this year! I don't think _anyone_has as many slips as you do! I'm not an idiot, I know what that means! That's why you were fighting with mama yesterday! What happens if-" He cuts himself of, looks down and I see a tear slide from his struggling eyes down his cheek.

I sigh, grab his hands and say, "Rory. Stop. Look at me." When he does I try to smile reassuringly, but considering how shaken I am, I'm not sure it comes out too reassuring at all.

"Look, yes, 42 is a lot, but there are thousands of names in that bowl okay? And even if I do get picked…" I have to stop for a second, my stomach clenching at just the thought, and force myself to say the rest.

"Even if I do get picked … I might have a good chance" I wince internally, because I don't know how much I believe that.

Sure, I'm 6 feet 3, and sure, I've gotten into a lot of fights since I was a kid and now have a reputation as an excellent brawler, and yeah, I've been hunting these last 4 years and so most definitely know how to get food…. But it's the _Hunger Games_. 23 to 1 odds, everyone trying to _kill_ you, not hurt you, plus careers with advantages, and terrible arenas and Gamemakers out to get you. If I do get picked, I don't know if I could get out at all. But Rory looks hopeful.

"Really Gale? You think you could win? Wait, of course you can win! I bet no one would expect _you_to come out of District 12, you're great."

I smile a little at Rory's obvious hero worship for his older brother, but feel a little guilty as well. Giving false hope is not something I like to do. But he looks much better than he did when I got home, so I stand up and hug him.

"We'll be fine either way okay?" He smiles up at me then nods,

"Promise?" He says and I nod once. Holding out my pinky finger. He holds out his as well, and then cuts it with a chop from his other hand.

"Promise" I say.

Rory heads back inside. I sigh and pass my hand through my still damp head. I look up to see my mother looking at me through the window, a blank look on her face. I look away, and try to ignore her, as we get ready to head out for the town square, but squeeze her hand and smile shakily at her as we leave the house. She sighs and leans her head on my shoulder for a second, then puts herself together, grabs Vick's hand and starts walking. I carry Posy until the edge of the square, and then give her to Mother. I hug them- Mother, Vick and Posy, and they hug me and Rory back, wishing us both luck. Then we have to get into the lines. Rory is shaking a little, and I know that despite his earlier words, he is very much afraid. I squeeze his shoulder and leave him in the back with the boys his age before heading forward and towards my own age group.

I don't have many guy friends- actually, I don't have many friends at all except for Katniss, but I shake hands with a couple of classmates anyways and nod to a few others in greeting, exchanging 'good luck's with everyone. I stand besides Thom, who is one of those few friends I do have, and look for Katniss.

After a while I spot her with a couple of other Seam girls and by heart almost stops. She's wearing her hair up, and wearing a blue dress and looks absolutely breathtaking. I stare at her all throughout the beginning of the ceremony- the Panem anthem, the mayor's repetitive history lesson… the usual. I look up from time to time, and so see when Haymitch Abernathy, District 12's only living victor and the town drunk stumbles on stage and flops onto Effie Trinket.

She tries to regain some dignity by giving her typical introduction, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor!"

When I look back towards Katniss I find her finally looking at me, smiling at the obviously ridiculous antics on the stage. Then I can see her eyes flash with horror, and I remember were we are, me with 42 death sentences, her with 20, so I turn away.

Effie steps up, her pink wig a little crooked, and thrills in her capitol accented voice "Ladies first!" Like she always does and I find it difficult to breathe. I don't blink as she gives one, two, three, four steps to the big bowl on her left, hear the absolute silence as her hand enters the bowl, shakes the slips of paper a bit, then grabs one and hold it out. Smiling, she opens it, looks at the name, goes back to the microphone and-

"Mera Danod!"

An audible breath of relief is given by almost everyone in the square. Some girls hug each other in relief, some cry, some laugh softly. Everyone but the girl whose been picked. Mera is a skinny Seam kid, she hunches forwards, her hair, midnight black and a bit oily hangs limply on her shoulders, and she is obviously holding back tears as she slowly… ever so slowly walks towards the podium. Poor kid. She's probably around 13, though considering how underfed she looks, maybe older.

I look back at Katniss and a lot of tension has drained from her shoulders, she's looking on with sadness at the girl, but I know she's just thinking _I'm safe. It's not me._Always a survivor, Catnip. Mera finally gets to the top of the stairs and onto the podium, and Effie grabs her hand.

"Well then! Everyone, a round of applause for our first tribute!" Some people clap, others don't. It's done mechanically and somberly. Personally I stay still, just stare at the poor girl, quietly crying on the stage. She's already given up. She's not even going to try. I've seen her type before; she'll probably die pretty fast.

"Well now! Its time to choose our boy tribute!" warbles Effie Trinket, and leaving Mera on the stage she crosses over to the boys bowl. Everything seems to slow down for me again as I see her put her hand into the bowl, stir once, twice, then take out the piece of paper.

Just as before, she opens it, reads it, then heads back to her microphone.

_It's me. It's me_ I think, and my conviction is so great I almost don't hear when she actually reads the name. I see her lips move, I process the sound, but I don't get it, at first. It sounds like me, but after a moment my brain understands Effie Trinket's exact words and I realize.

She said Rory. Not Gale.

Rory Hawthorne.

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So! That's chapter 1.

The first couple of chapters are going to be similar to The Hunger Games, and then its going to start drifting in a different direction... drastically.

Meera Danod is an OC, but she's gon a very small role in the story, so I hope it doesn't turn any one away from this. Her name is an anagram of Andromeda, who was, spoiler, a sacrifice.

Finally, I'd like to say that this story got into my head refused to go away. I feel quite proud of it, and hope you, the reader, enjoy reading it as much as I'm enjoying writing it!


	2. Chapter 2

Heres chapter 2, I updated it pretty fast because I wrote it pretty fast.

Hope you enjoy.

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_Parting is such sweet sorrow_

I move before my mind has even caught up with what's going on. I start shoving boys away, moving as fast as I can to the place where I left my little brother. I glimpse him in between a couple of other 12 year olds, and see him shaking, his face totally white, looking like he's about to faint.

I can hear the crowd murmuring unhappily all around as they always do when a 12 year old is reaped, because of how incredibly unfair it all is. I think I can also hear some of them say how this year is going to be even worse than usual for 12, how we'll be out by the time the initial bloodbath is over. They say this year District 12 got two completely useless tributes.

Rory stumbles his first step towards the podium, then stops, dismay drawing onto his face and tears gathering in his eyes. He shakes his head a little, takes two tiny steps back. I see the Peacemakers begin to advance, spread out and ready to surround him. They'll drag Rory up the stairs if they need to, hold him down or hit him until he complies.

No.

I won't let them. There aren't many boys still around Rory, most of them take a step back, as if getting reaped is a disease and its contagious, but I push any that are still in my path away and kneel, gathering him into my arms. Rory jumps into me, buries his face into my neck and starts sobbing. I stand up, his legs wrap around me and its like he's 8 again, after Dad died. I'd cried too, when that had happened, but told Rory and Vick it was all right, that we'd make it out all right.

And we had. It had been difficult, Mother getting another job so fast after Posy was born, me going into the woods for food, but we'd all survived. I made a promise to myself that I would protect my family, and until today I'd kept that promise.

Well_, Effie Trinket_ and the Capitol were not going to make a liar out of me. The Peacekeepers, 3 of them, approach me cautiously, in case I attack them- it's happened before. I know all the camera's in 12 are pointing at me, the entire country will watch this, if they aren't watching already, so I put on a mask of cold indifference. I'm very good at it, controlling my face muscles to show no emotion, having had years to practice, to hide the thoughts that could get me killed. It's only my eyes that betray me, showing all my anger and turmoil to the world.

"Give the kid to us" says the closest Peacekeeper, a baton in one hand, ready to use against me if I refuse. Rory's arms tighten around me.

"That won't be necessary" I tell them, loudly, so even up on the podium they can hear me,

"I volunteer as tribute"

The plaza goes silent, and the Peacekeepers stop advancing. Rory freezes against me. I look for Katniss, because I know Mother is not allowed inside the ropes, and I don't want to leave my brother alone. I find her pretty easy, I know where she is after all, and she's already making her way towards me. I head off in her direction as well, and the Peacekeepers let me pass by them without any trouble.

Distantly, I can hear Effie Trinket trying to regain control, simpering about the procedure of volunteering.

I give Rory to Katniss, though he doesn't want to let go of me, but with a few soothing words he latches onto her without much trouble. I try to keep my emotions in check, through it all, try not to show any emotion on my face.

"Go now," Katniss says when she's finally gotten hold of Rory. I can see that his weight bothers her, Katniss is pretty small, and Rory is rather big for a 12 year old, even though he's smaller than I was at that age, but her eyes show a fierce determination and I want to kiss her, but instead turn away and walk towards the stage. The people around me get out of my way- so its a straight path. I can see admiration, pity, sadness and shock on many of their faces. I'm probably District 12's only volunteer, _ever_. I try not to look at them. Try to remain cool, aloof.

Effie greets me at the top, smiling.

"Oh my! What an exiting turn of events! Tell me, what's your name?" I want to snap at her, say something like _'none of your damn business'_, except it is. Now I'm everyone's business. I run my hand through my hair once, to calm myself down.

"Gale Hawthorne" I say. Effie Trincket's eyes light up in understanding.

"Oh! That boy was probably your brother then! Poor dear, he didn't look ready at all! Well then, a big round of applause to our newest tribute!"

I turn to look at the crowd stone faced.

Slowly, they start clapping. Everyone. They start hollering, whistling, screaming out my name and sending me their best wishes. No one stops clapping or making noise when Effie tries to calm them down, instead cheering louder. My eyes find Katniss. She has let Rory down to the ground, but he's still hugging her, face hidden, and she's got Prim on her other side, holding onto them both as well. Katniss stares at me with pain in her eyes, and slowly lifts her left hand to her mouth, kissing three fingers and holding them out to me.

People around her notice, and copy the gesture, not everyone does it, but at least most of the boys and girls in the front rows do, and everyone I know from the Seam. It's a gesture unique to our District, and means admiration, and goodbye to someone you love. I can feel my mask begin to slip, I'm in danger of breaking down… then Haymitch Abernathy, District 12's only living victor stumbles out of his seat and heads towards me.

He slurs something about me having courage, then taunts the camera's, and therefore _the goverment._I don't know if I should be amazed or wary of the man... well, at least until he trips with his own feet, then slumps over and tumbles to the ground, knocking himself unconscious. The ceremony ends, Effie Trinket storming off the podium as soon as it's over. She looks furious- as furious as I've ever seen her. District 12 humiliated her today, between Haymitch's antics and the people in general disobeying her, this year has been a disaster up until now.

The other tribute and I are led into the Justice Building, and each put in a room. I'm left alone, so running my hand through my hair again I look around. It's an expensive looking place, carpets on the floor and the couch covered in luxurious looking fur. I sit on the couch and put my head into my hands. I have an hour to say goodbye to my friends and loved ones. I sit completely still, trying to think what I'm going to say to Mother. To Rory. To Vick and Posy. To…. Katniss.

My siblings come in first, Rory and Vick bursting through the door and running towards me, Posy trying to keep up with them but falling behind on her childish legs. Vick and Rory sit to each side of me and bury their faces into my shoulders. I pick Posy up and cradle her to my chest. She's crying hard. It takes a couple of minutes just to calm her down, I rub a hand on her back, telling her soothing things.

Well, mostly I just repeat, "Its okay, its okay, don't cry Posy," a lot, but it works pretty well. Vick is crying as well, but quietly. Out of us all he's always been the one to say the least. He talks only when necessary, not because he's shy, just because he enjoys being quiet. Rory's eyes are red, his face still white and puffy, but he's calmed down. He looks guilty, shocked, sad… it's too much for a 12 year old to handle.

I try to talk to them in the same calm, soothing voice I used a second ago on Posy. I tell Rory to go to Katniss, she'll show him how to hunt, how to move in the woods. Since I won't be around he's going to have to learn. Katniss and I made a pact, when we first became friends, that if either of us was ever reaped we'd take care of each other's family's. But I know that as much as Katniss will try, providing for 7 people is just going to be too much for her. She can _try_, and I'm sure she will, but Rory has to learn. He's going to be the man of the house now, and has to be ready. I tell them not to take too many Tessera. Rory can take 3 next year, but no more. Then, when Vick turns 12, they should continue taking 2 each, but never more than that.

I'm frightened just letting them do that much, because If Rory was chosen with just two slips out of thousands… what will more do? I hate it, hate this system and these circumstances, but none of us are naïve enough to think they'll all survive without me and without Tesserae. Mother's job pays, but not enough. I forbid Posy from ever putting her name in for food, and Rory and Vick agree. She's their baby sister too. Thankfully Posy's still so small, it won't be an issue for years to come.

Posy looks up to me with her big grey eyes and I can feel the calm act I'm putting on for them and the rest of the world begin to fall apart. I always think about the worst case scenarios, and so imagine my baby sister growing gaunt (well, more than usual for a Seam kid) and dying. Posy's the little ray of hope at home, she'd been the only good thing after Dad died, saying little things that just made Mother and me work harder to provide. But she's just so tiny, so young… I want to see her grow up and become a beautiful young girl, laughing and being charming, learning to read and write, run and hunt.

It's that thought, the thought of not seeing all of them, Rory and Vick and Posy grow up that almost breaks me. I loosen my arms from around Posy and instead wrap them around both my brothers. I imagine Rory growing up to be like me. He already looks like me a lot, though I'm pretty sure I'll always be taller, but he'll get wider, stockier. Girls will all flock around him, though he'll probably be pissy and mean to them because that's just the way Rory _is_. Mean to people he doesn't know, but fiercely protective of everyone he does.

Vick's the opposite; he's only 10 and already tall and lanky. He always hunches his skinny shoulders forwards, and spends a lot of time reading and being silent. If he'd been born a merchant, I'm certain he would have gotten a job at the justice building. He might even have become a teacher. But we're all too poor for that, so I know that both of my brothers, and probably even my sister will all go work in the mines.

Posy... it's too soon to tell what Posy is going to look like. But I guess she'll be a little bit like Katniss. Fierce, strong, and beautiful. Vick says something while I'm thinking all of this and I don't hear him.

"What?" I say, blinking and looking down at him. Vick looks at me with sad, hopeful eyes, and repeats his previous words.

"None of it will be necessary if you win Gale"

Rory and Posy look at me with open, expectant faces as well, both of them clenching my shirt with white hands.

Damn. I can't look Rory in the eye and tell him that what I said this morning was all a lie, so instead I smile at them, and ruffle Vick's hair. Usually this angers him, his hair is curlier than the rest of us, and every time I do that it messes up his carefully combed locks, but this time he doesn't say anything. Probably because he knows it's the last time I'm going to do it. My throat feels a little dry, and I can feel the exhaustion of not sleeping yesterday start to get me down, but I push it away.

"Yeah, I mean, I'm pretty strong" I say with bravado so false I swear they're going to call me out. Instead, they jump on it.

"You're more than strong Gale!" says Rory, "You said it this morning, you can hunt too! And you're really big! And handsome as well so I bet you'll get a bunch of sponsors!"

Posy nods her head so fast, her hair falls into her face and she has to comb it back before earnestly speaking up. "Yeah and you're nice, so you'll make a lot of friends!"

I wince. Posy is too young to know that making friends in the Arena is _bad_, because in the end you have to kill each other, and knowing them makes it difficult, makes you hesitate and gives them time to finish you off. Besides, I'm not nice. I'm kind to her, and to Mother and to Vick and Rory and Katniss and Prim, but that's it. I'm pretty unsociable to the rest of the world.

"And no one will expect you to be any good" says Vick.

I shrug, noncommittally. "Yeah, and if I win, we'll be rich"

Our time is almost up, and all I want to do is sit there with them forever. Posy must sense our time drawing close as well because she sits up, takes off the necklace she's wearing around her neck and gives it to me. It's a leather band with 5 transparent glass balls.

"Take this for luck" she says, and I kiss her forehead and accept it. I'm allowed a token, and Posy's necklace was made by Dad, a long time ago, days before he was killed in the mine. I remember him coming home exited one day with the beads in his hand, telling me how he'd won them in a game against the jeweler, kissing mother's stomach and telling her it would be for their little girl. How Dad knew Posy'd be a girl I'll never know. This necklace... this is special.

The Peacekeeper opens the door and tells them to leave. I hug Rory and Vick, then Posy one last time, and see them start walking towards the door. Rory stops and turns around.

"You promised me everything would be okay this morning. Promise me now that you'll try to win"

I feel like such an ass for making false promises to my brother but… he didn't say, promise to _win_… just promise to _try_. I can do that. I'm going to do that anyways. I hold out my pinky finger, and Rory runs back to me. Vick does as well, as does Posy. They all wrap they're tiny fingers around my bigger one, and I think I really will cry this time, when Rory cuts it.

"I promise" I tell them, then stand up and walk to the window, because I don't want to see them leave. If I do die, this is a good last memory of them. I hear them shuffle out; protest a little against the shoving Peacekeeper, then someone else come in. It's Mother.

She walks towards me and hugs me tightly.

"Mama" I say.

I haven't called her that since I was 8, but now feels right.

"I know baby" she says, and I smile bitterly because its been a while since she called me 'baby' too. I'm a little big for it. She pulls back, takes a couple of steps away so she can see me without craning her head up.

"Mama, when I'm gone make sure that Rory and Vick stay in school, and make sure they don't watch the worst parts of the games and-" I start, but she grabs on to my hands tightly and shakes her head, stopping me.

"No Gale. Don't think about us. I'll manage everything here, you don't think about anything else than the games. Concentrate on staying alive."

I swallow a lump in my throat. Not her too. Surely they all must know I don't have a chance… but she's staring at me, and she's my mother, so I know she has already guessed what I'm thinking.

"Stop it. I'm not saying this because I'm deluded. I know you, son, and I know that if anyone in District 12 can win, its you. You remember how to make rope out of grass?"

I nod, silently, as she starts quizzing me on a lot of different knots, traps, snares. It was Mother that taught me how to make them, how to track and catch animals. When she was young she used to go out into the forest just like I do now to get meat for her family too. Dad taught me how to use a knife and how to fight, but its Mother's knowledge that will most help me in the arena.

She quizzes me for long minutes about small things, how to find water, how to tie a double knot, how to skin a squirrel and when the peacekeeper opens the door again and tells her its time to leave, I'm much calmer than I was when my brothers and sister left. I'm more focused as well, thinking clearer. Mother sighs, looking pained. She steps close to me again, kisses my cheek and smoothes out my clothes.

"I love you Gale, and don't forget, whatever happens, I'm proud of you" She smiles at me softly and leaves, her back straight, head held high.

I stare after her, grateful and amazed.

Mother is a very strong woman. When Dad died, she hid her grief from us, comforted us, found a job and kept us together. Now she has to watch her oldest son fight and kill, and die. But Mother is not Mrs. Everdeen, Katniss' mother, who shies away from pain and responsibility. Mother will watch the games, whatever happens, stony eyed and worried, but she'll manage.

I'm surprised by my next visitor. The mayor's daughter.

"I'm so sorry," She says, "I'm so sorry for this morning, I didn't mean it. I never try to be deliberately cruel-" I stop her before she says anything else.

"Its fine…" I say a little brusquely, trying to remember her name. I think she notices my dilemma because she smiles.

"Its Madge. Madge Undersee."

Madge. Right. I run a hand through my hair. I do that when I'm nervous or frustrated, and it helps to calm me down. Except I've been doing it so much lately that my hair is beginning to stick up a little, so I smooth it back down. I feel a little embarrassed for forgetting her name. We've never talked directly, but we have crossed paths before and I know she knows _my_ name, who I am. To me she's always only been the mayor's daughter, and Katniss' school friend.

"I wanted to give you something" says Madge, and unbuckles the pin on her dress.

"Will you wear it? Every tribute is allowed a token and I thought maybe you could use this to remember District 12", she holds out the pin to me.

"I'm really sorry... Madge," I say, and I really am,

"But I can't take that. My sister already gave me a token…" I hold out the necklace Posy gave me, it's been clutched in my hand since she and the boys left. Madge blushes.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I should have guessed… do you need help putting it on?"

I nod, thinking this has got to be the most bizarre conversation I've ever had in my life. She walks over to me, and I walk closer to her as well, so I'm not standing by the wall anymore. I give her the necklace and she undoes the knot holding it closed with deft fingers. Posy can wear it loosely on her neck without having to untie the thing, but when the Mayor's daughter holds it out I can tell the necklace won't fit around my own.

Madge notices as well. "Hold out your hand," she says instead, so I do. She wraps the necklace around my wrist twice, then ties it off. The beads sparkle a little in the light. I look down at Madge, grateful.

"Thank you" I say genuinely, knowing the idea would never have occurred to me. I'd have probably tied the necklace to my clothing or something, or just stuffed it into a pocket once I noticed it didn't fit, it might have even fallen off, and I'd never have forgiven myself if that happened.

Madge blushes and smiles at me. "You're welcome"

She's very pretty.

We sit side by side on the couch, waiting for the Peacekeeper, and even though we stay silent it's not awkward. She shakes my hand when she's called out, the hand with the bracelet on it.

She leaves and Katniss, finally, _finally_, walks in. I stand up, cross the room as fast as I can and she jumps into my arms. She smells like pine, and soap and earth and smoke and she's just perfect.

I love her, and this is probably the last time I'll ever see her. Katniss starts talking, fast, before we've even broken the embrace.

"Gale, you have to get yourself a bow and arrow. Well, that and a knife. If you have those, you can win. Definitely. There will probably be a bit of forest, or at least some trees" I try not to think of the year with only the rocky mountains, or the year in the desert, or the year in a swamp when she says this, because I know she's only talking to calm her own nerves down.

Katniss knows that I am aware of what my best chance of survival is- I know myself better than anyone after all.

"You won't starve, you can hunt, you can probably hunt down the other tributes, track them down as if they were deer, or mountain lions, or anything really. It can't be that difficult, most won't know how to cover their tracks."

I let her babble on, just to hear the sound of her voice, and hold on to her. Katniss' body fits mine perfectly. She's relatively small, so I can wrap myself around her easily, and it feels so good, to be this close to her.

I know our time is almost up, so it really is now or never, and I don't like never.

"Katniss" I say, not Catnip, my nickname for her because this is serious. She looks up at me with her beautiful, wide, grey eyes, and I let go of her waist, holding her face between my hands gently. She looks uncertain about it all. I'm not surprised, like I said; she's never been one to take initiative. When something happens, she reacts.

Unlike me, and I really want to initiate this.

"I love you" I say, and her eyes widen, her mouth opens in shock, and that's all the invitation I need, closing my eyes and lowering my mouth to hers. She tastes a bit like the strawberries we ate this morning, and it's a very gentle, innocent kiss.

Well, if I could have it my way, it wouldn't be innocent at all and I could take the last minutes we have together and lay her on the couch and explore her body.

But we don't have the time, and I know she's not ready for that. Hell, she might not even be ready for the kiss I lay on her. She kisses me back, but only after I prompt her. When I pull back I can tell she's confused- really confused. By the time it looks like she knows what she's going to say, it's too late, and the Peacekeepers are pulling her out of the door.

"Gale!" She calls out, "Gale I'll-"

But I will never know what she was going to say, because the door slams shut and all I can hear is silence.

* * *

AN: A couple of things, first, I'm not a KatnissxGale shipper. But this is a story about Gale, and Gale's is in love with Katniss. He´s going to be thinking about her a lot. But thats it.

Rory, Vick and Posy are difficult to write as individuals. I don't know many children, and though I vaguely remember being 12, I can't remember 10 and 4. Rory and Vick are never even given lines in Suzanne Collins' books, so I decided to make up personalities and looks. As for Hazelle Hawthorne being Gale´s hunting teacher... I don't know. I think It'd be great if that where actually true, and The Hunger Games needs more strong, understated adults.

I like Madge a lot, but I really couldn't have her giving Gale the Mockingjay. He's _not_ Katniss. He acts different and he 'plays' different. Thats why I had D12 react different to him as well.


	3. Chapter 3

Took me forever to write this, because I couldn't get Haymitch right... still don't know if I'm satisfied with it, but anyways, here's chapter 3.

* * *

_we are just holding on to nothing, to see how long nothing lasts_

We get on the train, a sleek, modern and incredibly _Capitol_ vehicle, and I hate it from the moment I step inside. Effie Trinket briefly points out where to find the dinning cart, the lounging cart, her room and Haymitch's, before taking Mera and me to our own rooms. The train goes at 250 miles an hour, and we will be arriving at the Capitol in less than 24 hours. Which means we are spending the night.

The rooms Effie gives me are lavish and include the bedroom, sitting room, _dressing_ room and a private bathroom. She tells me to change out of my dirty clothes and wait around until dinnertime. Except my clothes aren't dirty and I don't feel like accommodating her at all. Instead I go out to the dinning cart and watch the Capitol servants lay out the food and set the table.

I watch them half heartedly, letting my mind wander, thinking mostly about Katniss. What was she going to say? I'll wait for you? I'll take care of your family? It's impossible to imagine really. Then my mind wanders on to other things, like the days that lay ahead, the parades, the interviews, the training...

I get a small panic attack thinking about the actual arena, being in the hunger games and running and hiding from career tributes. Trying to survive, and failing.

Eventually its time for dinner and Effie Trinket and Mera join me.

For the first time I actually look at my fellow tribute. Mera is a skinny, slouching, short girl with dark hair that reaches her shoulders and black eyes. She's not particularly pretty, and looking at her closely, I judge her age to be closer to 15 than the previous 13 I'd guessed. She's changed out of her reaping clothes, and is now wearing an orange dress, tied so tight around her waist that I imagine that she gets much less food than my siblings and I eat. She never meets my eyes, and though she's stopped crying, her face remains sad and accepting of her fate. I conclude that she's not a threat. I'd rather not kill her, because she's 12, but I've no doubt that I can. The thought leaves me feeling a little bitter, so I decide to ignore both her and Effie Trinket, and instead eat my food.

The food is indescribably good. The best I've ever eaten. Carrot soup, salad, lamb chops, mashed potatoes, cheese and fruit and even chocolate cake. I eat as much as I can, but try to do it slowly, so that I don't get sick.

Once, Katniss and I caught a wild buck, and there was so much of it that we sold most of it for pretty good money at the Hob, and still had enough to each take a leg home. Mother cooked it together with rice and plants from the forest, and we all ate so much that we got sick and couldn't move around the rest of the day. Thinking about home does make me pause in my eating, and although the food in the cart is all delicious, more than feeling grateful for being able to experience it, I feel resentment. There's enough food on this table to feed at least 4 families comfortably, and it's wasted here, lying around for 3. I catch Effie Trinket looking at me with thinly veiled disgust; her expression clearly says that she thinks we eat like animals.

Good.

Impressing this woman is really not something I can bring myself to care about.

Despite my conscious thoughts to eat slowly, its still too much food, too fast, and after finishing, I can't move. Mera has it worse, going to the bathroom and retching out half her food as soon as the plates are cleared. Effie Trinket mutters under her breath, but she's still loud enough that I hear her complain about always getting horribly mannered tributes, and I clench my fists and try not to snap at her.

I've never liked Effie Trinket, she's the yearly reminder that my life, and everyone's life is controlled by some far away city and government. When Mera returns, the capitol woman leads us to another room to watch the recap of the reapings across Panem. There's a long couch in the middle of the room, but no one takes it, Mera and I already trying to keep distance between each other, me because I really don't want to know anything about her in case I have the unpleasant task of killing her later on this week, and her, by the looks of it, because she's afraid of me. We each take a seat on the individual chairs to either side of the big couch, while Effie Trinket remains standing by the door, as far away from us as she can possibly be.

It's not like we smell or anything. Stupid Capitol woman.

The recap is done in order, starting with District 1 and ending with ours, 12. I begin scrutinizing the other tributes as soon as they step onto the stage. District 1's tributes both look well fed, the boy is tall, a little shorter than me probably, and around 16. He looks overconfident. The girl from 1 swaggers onto the stage, all smiles and anticipation. Individually, I'm pretty sure I can take either of them in a physical fight, but if they form an alliance, as careers so often do, I'm not so certain. District 2 worries me more. The girl is small, but she walks with a trained grace, each step deliberate, strong. She's got cruel eyes, and I can tell from the very second that she steps onto the platform that this girl is in it to win.

But it's the boy, if I can even call him that- that really worries me. A volunteer, monstrously big, almost double my size in muscle, probably my same height and he's been trained all his life for this one moment. Damn. If I have to fight that one… No, better to hide up in a tree and spear him with arrows, or poison him, or let another tribute kill him first.

If I'm lucky.

District 4, usually a career district, looks weak this year, the girl fit enough but not more so than expected, the boy a child who is not even close to ready. Mostly I watch the tributes with a detached, analytical mind. Try to gauge any weakness, imagine them not as children, or even as people, but just animals.

I'm older and bigger than most of the tributes, and I imagine I've had more fights back in the Hob, in school and even in the Slag Heap than most of them, so one on one, I'll be able to take almost everyone. Well, not the boy from 2, and maybe not even the boy from 11, but most of them.

I'm also pretty sure I'm better at getting food than maybe everyone but the district 7 and 11 kids, and when it comes to weapons... I'm not as good as Katniss with a bow, but from a high vantage point, it looks like not many of these children are fast enough to dodge an arrow from point blank range, and if I get enough supplies, I can trap a lot of other ones in bear snares or nets.

District 12 is finally called. Mera's reaping is completely forgettable; her head bowed and tears streaming down her face. But not mine. When Rory's name is called I see what the Capitol must have seen. I run through the crowd, boys falling away from me like leaves, as I pick up Rory. I see the peacekeepers get close, I hear my voice ring out, volunteering myself instead of my kid brother. I see Katniss, in her beautiful blue dress take Rory and then I walk to the stage. My eyes follow her, but soon the camera's change and focus only on me. I see the crowd cheering, then Haymitch falling off the stage in a drunken stupor.

The broadcast finishes with Claudius Templesmith and Ceasar Flickerman enthusiastically remind everybody to have a 'Happy Hunger Games', and then the screen turns black. All three of us are silent, staring at the blank wall. Out of the corner of my eye I see that for once, Effie Trinket is really looking at me, contemplatively and even excitedly. I understand why, she was too preoccupied during the actual reaping to pay attention to me, but that footage… it's promising.

I look like a good tribute, a strong, capable tribute. It helps that I'm good looking, that standing besides Effie and Mera I look older than 18. Maybe... Maybe I will actually get some sponsors, maybe I actually can...

Before I even finish that dangerous thought, District 12's only living victor comes staggering into the room, supporting himself with the wall and stops when he gets besides Effie Trinket, leaning heavily into her and making her stumble a little. She squeals and stiffens up, her small hands clenching and trembling in fury as she stares at the drunk on her.

Haymitch takes a while to notice that he's not moving anymore, and his eyes wander around the room, he stares at Mera, then at me, and when his eyes slide over to me, for a fraction of a second I see more than the famous district drunk in his grey eyes, then they glaze over and he looks at Effie. Her trembling is noticeable now, absolutely furious. Today has not treated her well, and it looks like she's reached her breaking point.

"Haymitch Abernathy! I've told you, I've _told_ you not to touch me! Its inappropriate, and terrible manners! What will people think when they see today's reaping? You where completely uncontrolled, wild… don't forget that we are representatives, people look up to us-"

"Oh shut up, princess", he replies, awkwardly pushing away from her and slouching into the couch.

"Nobody cares about District 12, or your ridiculous wig." He says, his face in a mocking expression, his tone slurred, but snide.

Effie doesn't take it well, squeaking angrily, tersely wishing Mera and I a good night, then stomping out of the room. As soon as she leaves, a look of satisfaction crosses over Haymitch's face, and drunk as he is, I realize that making Effie leave the room was completely deliberate.

As I watch him, Haymitch takes out a flask and uncoiling the tap, takes a drink. A little of the liquor spills out and I notice that its a staining blue color. Haymitch curses, wiping his hand against his shirt, trying, unsuccessfully, to make the stain disappear.

"What is that?" Mera half says, half whispers, looking straight at his flask. Haymitch takes a while trying to clean the stain and only making it worse before giving up and responding.

"Its the only liquor they have on this damn train. Capitol made. Sweet and colorful and fake. Takes a lot to get you drunk." He smiles teasingly and holds out the bottle to her. Apparently, he's already had a lot.

"Want some, sweetheart?"

Mera shies away from his outstretched arm, and Haymitch just laughs at her, then he turns his head to me.

"What about you, pretty boy? Want a last drink before you die?"

His tone angers me, and my first instinct is to snap at him, tell him to piss off. But I've always had to quell that first instinct to lash out, instead staying quiet and mild in front of authority. Disregarding the way he said it, I suddenly become conscious of the fact that really, if there's one reason or one day to turn to alcohol, the day I willingly sacrifice myself for a society I hate instead of my brother, is definitely it.

"Sure" I say out loud, and Haymitch closes the tap on the flask and tosses it at me. I untwist it and take a long gulp before I get any second thoughts about this. Thinking about my words before I say them does not stop me from being impulsive, or rash. It's not the first time I've had an alcoholic drink, nor the second, but the capitol liquid is incredibly different from the distilled white liquor they sell at the Hob that I'm more familiar with.

When I was younger, before Dad died, I used to go to Thom Hornwood's house and drink liquor he or Edric Bone stole and get drunk. Then Dad died, and Ed was chosen for the 71st Hunger Games, and Thom's girl lost his baby because of malnutrition, and I started drinking more to numb the bad days than to celebrate or relax. Its not like I did it often anyways, considering that we were always short for money and white liquor cost about a pound of skinned meat I could use to buy something more useful.

I take a big gulp, and make a nasty face as the liquor goes down my throat, and instead of the bitter taste I expected a sickly sweet taste touches my tongue instead. Haymitch laughs, and out of spite, I drain the bottle of its contents and toss it back.

"Got any more?" I ask dispassionately, and in response he stands up and says,

"No, but there's an entire liquor cart, down that way, and since you finished my flask, I'm heading there anyways."

I stand up as well and move my head in the direction of the door.

"Lets go then"

Haymitch stumbles out of the cart and I follow after. Out of the corner of my eyes I see Mera draw her legs towards her and hug them, put her head on her knees and hide. I ignore her.

There's as much drink in the bar as there was food in the dinning cart, and in as many colors as exist. Haymitch obviously knows what he's doing, going straight for a section of bubbling liquor, takes a bottle and stretches out on a couch, sighing happily and drinking straight from the bottle. I ignore him for a while, browsing the immense selection of bottles. I take some off the shelves, uncork them, smell some, drink some. Some I like, some I hate. There's one that almost as thick as the soup we ate a few hours ago that tastes like liquid coal, one a shinny gold color that tastes like lemon and alcohol. A glowing green one that I love, a black liquid that doesn't reflect light and tastes as foul as it looks. Most of the bottles I just take one, but after a while I start feeling dizzy, and I hear, as if thorough another room Haymitch speaking.

"Slow down pretty boy, mixing drinks is a sure fire way to get a premium hangover tomorrow morning."

I think eating earlier and filling my stomach dulls the effects of the alcohol a little but still ultimately I feel my tongue go numb and my vision focusing and unfocusing. Usually this would worry me very much, I'm a hunter, and all my senses seem to be slow in responding right now, but alcohol also makes my mind more relaxed and less paranoid. Feeling sufficiently drunk, I decide to grab a smoking white bottle and sit on a couch close to the one Haymitch is on and finish it off.

Haymitch seems to have stopped drinking for now, and is staring at me with an expressionless gaze that if I were sober I could maybe understand. As it is though, I don't really care about whatever he's thinking and instead swallow a mouthful of my bottle and say something I've been wondering since I first saw him stumble into our cart earlier tonight.

"How'd you do it?" I ask him, "Win your games"

Haymitch is a short, paunchy man, with big hands but short arms, and with no apparent skills apart from his diamond hard liver. He inhales deeply, and looks away from me, frowning bitterly.

"Even if I told you and you remembered tomorrow, which after seeing you try almost every drink in this bar I seriously doubt, it wouldn't help you" he grumbles

"Why not?" I say, a little indignantly.

Haymitch looks at me sadly, and responds.

"For one, the gamemakers made sure that what I did can never be done again. And for another, it's not worth it, upsetting the Capitol"

I laugh.

It's probably the alcohol, but I think its funny. All my life, I've hated the government, hated the president and the system. And I never got to do anything more than defy some stupid law about not going in to the woods to hunt.

Upsetting the Capitol? When my dad died, I used to fantasize about organizing all the fatherless children, training them and becoming an army, ready to rebel and fight against the government. I dreamed about setting bombs in the mines at night when no one was there and blowing them up, therefore stopping the coal production and screwing with the system.

But I'd never done anything, and now I was going to die for them. I wonder, drunkenly, if dying hurts. I wonder if at the very least I'll get to flip of the Capitol's stupid camera's before I die.

"You don't know me, Haymitch, and I might very well want to piss off the Capitol" I say instead

He sits up, runs his hand over his face, and I see that he looks very tired, and older than he actually is.

"I do know you, pretty boy, and now the whole of Panem is going to know you too." He begins, "The responsible older brother that will do anything to save his family. I saw that, and I was so drunk I couldn't even sit on my chair straight. That means President Snow saw that, and if you step out of line, you can make damn sure that that kid is going to suffer for it."

His words sober me up pretty quick. I sit up straight, but too quickly, and the whole world moves around me. Groaning I hold my head, feel nauseous. Haymitch laughs at me, breaking the tense atmosphere a little, but my anger, always lurking beneath the surface and dulled by the alcohol seeps out a little and I glare at him.

"Then I'll fuck them by staying alive. No one does that. No one from 12 wins. No one but you."

Haymitch looks sad, shakes his head and slowly brings the bottle he hasn't really been drinking from up to his lips.

"Its not really winning you know," he says, "and seeing you now... I'm not sure if you'll _want_ to get out alive. Not you"

I growl at him.

"I _do_ want to live, and you are supposed to be my _mentor_, supposed to help me and advise me." I say it sarcastically, but stare straight at him and never blink.

Haymitch looks as serious as I do, and stares straight back. He's got Seam eyes, which I like, I probably wouldn't trust a merchant Victor, but however he did it, Haymitch won his games, and he stayed Seam.

"Say you'll help me now or never bother me again, and ill do this my way." I say, holding his gaze.

His smile is slow and mean, and I wonder if asking for help was a good idea. Usually I never ask for help, so it's probably the alcohol talking. Still, numbing my pride is not the worse thing that could happen.

"I'll help you, prettyboy. Lets see how far that gets both of us."

My vision is getting blurrier than before, and scowling I take a last sip of the bottle in my hand. It's too much, because even though I think I say "my name is Gale", I forget whatever happens next maybe unconscious, maybe just too drunk to remember.

I wonder if it's just my imagination or if Haymitch actually says,

"Here's my advice then, Gale, Stay alive."

* * *

AN: Drunk!Gale won't happen again, at least not in this story, but it seemed like a good way for Haymitch and him to bond. Unfortunately, getting that scene to _work_ was horrible, and I have like 3 different versions of that last conversation in my head written besides the published version here. I'll maybe use them for something else.

I'm trying to keep the language a little clean, but I'm naturally a very dirty mouthed person, so every now and again something a little stronger than 'damn' will slip by. As it is, I'm trying to use the curse words for emphasis only.

Anyways, tell me what you think! And hopefully I'll be faster with the next chapter


	4. Chapter 4

corrected some typos in the previous chapters.

Heres number 4

* * *

_here we are now. Entertain us_

There is this one commercial that passes on the television all the time back home for Capitol liquor. Very generic- terrible and over the top, basically promoting drinking and partying in the capitol because the colorful drinks they offer are all "hangover free!" It says the same thing over and over in the terrible capitol accent, and since getting any Capitol liquor in 12 is pretty much impossible, the thing annoys the hell out of me.

When I wake up, my head is pounding and my stomach is reproaching me for not having puked before passing out. It seems that the commercial was simply another instance of false advertising. Just another capitol lie.

I stay in bed, unmoving, wondering what it was that woke me up when I hear Effie Trinket's voice.

"Up, up up! It's going to be a big, big day!"

She knocks on my door, then moves on to what I imagine is Mera's. I contemplate ignoring her, going back to sleep or simply staying in the bed. But lying down has never cured me of a hangover before, and going back to sleep with Effie's shrill voice going on and on as it is seems unlikely.

Groaning, I get up and head towards the bathroom. I strip out of yesterday's clothes, which still, unfortunately smell of sugary Capitol alcohol and head straight into the shower. I expect the freezing cold water of District 12's waterworks, but instead get warm, aromatic water. It's pleasant, and helps with the headache marginally. I've never had a long bath before, so I indulge in that now, letting the water run down my body, my eyes closed. When I finally head out, I dress in clean capitol clothes, simple but made out of a softer fabric than my usual clothes.

Everyone is already at the table eating, or in Haymitch's case, drinking. When he sees me, he lets out a snort of mirth and offers me his flask. The very thought of it makes me nauseous, and I shake my head. Seeing all the food doesn't make me feel much better either, but I grab some bread anyways and stick it in my mouth, knowing its good for me.

I ignore everyone else at the table, instead chewing on the bread, at least until Haymitch starts talking about the games and his mentoring responsibilities. He pours some alcoholic thing into his coffee, takes a sip and begins.

"Right, so, the Hunger Games. First week is all about parades and training and preparations… about making an impression on the people who have money so that they give it to _you_. Here's the thing both of you need to know. Effie and I have been doing this for a long time, and the only way for it to actually work is if you two shut up and do exactly what we say you have to do, when we say it."

I can't help a snort of derision. Haymitch gives me a halfheartedly annoyed glare, and since I do feel like crap and am hungover because he offered me a drink last night in the first place, I figure I might as well speak my mind for once.

"Right, because that's why you've brought home so many victors to 12 before. Because they shut up and listened to you're advise."

Effie lets out an outraged noise, and starts to say something, but I stare straight at my 'mentor' and don't look away. Haymitch glares back at me, unblinking, brings his spiked mug of coffee to his lips and takes a sip. He smiles mockingly at me.

"Well, boy, you look like a million dollars this morning, so why don't we try out this mentor-tribute thing right now, and if you feel better, you shut up and do as I say."

I nod, not really trusting him, then he reaches into his pocket and takes out a small metal case, pops it open and tosses me a medium sized transparent pill. I stare at it suspiciously, and hear Effie gasp.

"Oh my!" she says, "That's one of the expensive brands isn't it?" I ignore her, and swallow the pill, washing it down with some orange juice, which incidentally, I've never had before.

It takes effect almost immediately.

My whole body seems to clench, and I spasm uncontrollably. My headache, dull but constant since I woke up multiplies in intensity and I shut my eyes so tight I see lights. I'm unsure of how long it takes, but I can hear Haymitch roaring in laughter distantly.

When its over, and I control my body again, the first thing I do is lunge at him. But the pills after effects have left me shaken, and I fail to grab him. Instead I spill half the drinks and the plates on the table. Effie makes a horrified noise and reprimands me.

"Manners!" She says harshly, and Mera, up till now silent and nibbling on some toast of her own squeaks and jumps a little in her chair. Haymitch hasn't even moved, just takes another drink from him mug, still snickering slightly.

"Feel better?" He asks me, and I realize that I actually do.

The headache is gone and my stomach has settled down. I feel more alert, if still a bit shaky, and suddenly very hungry.

No longer hungover. I sit back down, but don't apologize. Haymitch nodds and keeps talking, while I grab a plate full of eggs, bacon, some flour made thing Effie says are pancakes and the orange juice jar.

"Good. Now both of you, eat a good breakfast, we're almost at the capitol. When we get there, you get taken to the remake center and then to your stylist. Don't fight them, its only worse that way. Later on is the inauguration parade, and after that you get to go to the Tributes building. Joy. Effie and I will see you there."

I hear Mera speak up for the first time.

"Does the prepping hurt?"

Haymitch shruggs.

"To be honest, sweetheart, I really don't remember"

He smiles at her, and we hear the intercom turn on.

_Welcome, to the Capitol. We shall be arriving in 10 minutes. _

Looking at the Capitol for the first time…. as much as I hate it, there really is no way to not be amazed by it. The city is so much more than what you see on the cameras. The buildings all shine with unnatural brightness, colors that seem impossible on every corner. Everything is modern, almost alien in its perfection. Everything shines and looks new.

The people are all artificial as well, with bizarre, unnatural colors on their hair, clothes, skin… The _Capitol_.

I shy away from the window as soon as people begin gathering around the train, eagerly pointing and screaming excitedly. It looks like the enthusiasm really is as zealous as it appears back home. They sicken me, these twisted fake people, all bloodthirsty and waiting for us to die. Mera shies away as well, and we hide behind the walls and away from the windows until we pull into the train station.

As it turns out, prepping really is painful. The team that is in charge of me consists of a pair of twins with blue skin and eyes. The only difference between them is one has black hair, and the other white. The third is an older looking woman, with yellow cat eyes, and pointed ears and claws. Her hair is red, as is her clothing. I try to ignore them for the most part, and clench my teeth to not cry out while they rip off all the hair on my body, scrub my skin raw and get rid of any scars or blemishes on my skin. I'm not to attached to any, so it doesn't bother me. I don't fight, just as Haymitch asked, until one of them, the dark haired twin comes towards me with scissors and tries to take Posy's necklace. I grab her wrist and glare at her.

"That's my token. Don't touch it."

She mumbles a little, flustered in her capitol accent, and then tries to do it again, so I tighten my grip on her. She looks straight at me, surprised. Probably never had a tribute be difficult before. I stare into her dark eyes and say slowly, so that even as stupid as she appears to be she understands,

"_No_."

Behind her, I see the cat-eyed one discreetly grab a syringe from their tool desk. Screw Haymitch then. I'm not going to sit idly by and behave while these Capitol freaks take away the last thing I have from my district- from my family. I snap, get angry.

It's not difficult to wrestle the scissors out of the dark twins hand, then yank her towards me. And it's easy to hold her still with only one arm and point the scissors at her neck. She lets out a tiny scream in fright, and the cat-eyed woman freezes. The other twin takes a step forwards towards me, but I shake the girl in my arms and she stops moving as well.

I notice that she's crying, but to be honest, I don't care for her or her sister at all.

It's the cat-eyed one I direct my attention to. She's obviously the oldest and most experienced. She's frowning, looking at me calculatingly.

"We'll give you back your token" She says to me, and I just glare harder at her.

"No," I repeat, "No one touches the bracelet. Who do I have to talk to to make sure of that."

The cat-eyed woman takes a slow, non-threatening step backwards and lays the syringe back onto the tool desk. It looks like she's about to say something I won't like, when the white haired twin speaks up.

"Portia, our boss", she says, her voice trembling, and her eyes locked onto her sister. "She's your stylist"

I glance at the cat-eyed one and see that she's making an ugly expression. She smoothes it out pretty quick and looks at me, and in an annoyingly calm voice says, "I'll go get her right now, we where almost finished making you look acceptable anyways. No need to do anything rash."

I don't trust this one, so I narrow my eyes and sneer at her. What does she think, I'm an idiot? I'm not.

"No", I say again, then nod my head sharply towards the other twin.

"You, go get your boss then, or whomever, but if you bring in peacekeepers like cat-eyes over there wants to, I kill your sister and damn the consequences. Understand?"

She nodes rapidly, her eyes wide and afraid, staring at her sister but doesn't move.

"Go!" I say harshly, and she turns and runs out the door.

I feel oddly calm about the whole situation, so get a little more comfortable, shift the dark twin in my arms and turn my eyes back to the cat-eyed woman. She sighs, apparently defeated for now, and leans on the wall. She's not happy, I can tell, but it doesn't seem like she's going to do anything about it right now either.

The girl I'm holding captive trembles, but stays silent as well.

Her sister apparently doesn't waste any time, and comes back maybe two minutes later with a tall black woman in a yellow wig, and no peacekeepers. She was unwilling to risk her sisters life, looks like.

Still, I don't let go of my captive just yet.

This new woman, who I assume to be Portia, looks around slowly, taking everything in. Then she looks at me and starts to speak.

"Gale, my name is Portia, I'm your stylist. I promise not to touch your bracelet, and not to call in the peacekeepers. Please let Nori go."

I look at her suspiciously, unsure if I should listen or not. For the most part, I believe in people's word, but then again, that was back in 12, and this is the plastic capitol.

Portia holds out her hands in a non threatening way.

"Please Gale, the longer we stay in this impasse, the less time I have to prepare you for the parade, and if you don't appear for that, the peacekeepers will have no choice but to come. None of us want that. And I'm sure poor Nori is terrified"

I think about that for a second, the impasse thing, not the Nori is terrified thing. Portia's right, and I really have nothing else to gain from this situation, and the anger that got me here is gone mostly, bottled back up inside me. I lower the scissors I've had pointed at the girl-Nori's neck and let her go. She gasps in relief and runs over to her sister, both hugging and whispering at each other.

I stand up, but keep the scissors handy just in case. Portia turns away from me for a while, and smiles at the two girls, Nori and her twin, then says something to them in a low tone of voice and they leave. She nodes at the cat-eyed woman and still frowning, composes her face to a look of neutral boredom and stands straight and makes as if to leave as well.

"Ira," Calls out Portia, and the other woman stops and looks at her boss, Portia gazes at her severely, "I meant what I said, don't call in the peacekeepers."

Ira sneers angrily at me, but then leaves as well.

Portia and I are left alone in the room. For the first time I realize I am standing completely naked in front of a stranger, and Portia, despite the wig, looks like a normal human, and speaks in a less accented tone than most capitol people. I wonder if I should feel self conscious, but after what just happened, don't.

Portia walks over to me and circles around me, humming lightly as she stares at me from head to toe.

I keep the scissors in a light grip in my hand, but she doesn't seem to mind, and never touches me.

I stare at her as she turns her head this way and that, looking at me. Portia is my size, wearing her capitol heels, and oddly elegant. At last she reaches for my robe, and stands in from to me. She smiles thinly as she gives it to me, an odd smile- her mouth turns upwards but her eyes don't slant at all, and instead remain serious.

"Well, you'll certainly make an impression" She says lightly, then turns and heads towards the other door in the room, the one the prep team didn't take.

"Follow me" she says, and goes in. There are two couches there, facing each other and with a table in the middle with food already on it. Portia takes a seat on the couch with its back to the gigantic window which shows off the capitol. She sees it daily, so I imagine she thinks I'll want to see its shinny towers much more. How gracious of her.

I sit down and grab a plate filled with turkey, it seems, and potatoes, salads and gravy. I hate the capitol, but damn, the food is very, very good. Portia grabs a plate as well, and we eat in silence. After a second helping, which Portia watches me eat, she presses a button on the table and the plates disappear. Then she begins to speak.

"As I mentioned previously, I'm your stylist. This is my first year in the Hunger Games, and both me and my partner, Cinna are very exited about 12 this year. We've become very tired with the opening ceremony costumes you usually get. Coal miners, headlamps, coaldust- Its all very overdone, and we don't like it."

I shrug, knowing that my input in this conversation is not really necessary. To be honest, as long as I'm not naked, I could care less what ridiculous outfit they dress me up in. Portia continues speaking.

"Anyways, our idea for this year is rather strange, I'll admit, and if you don''t want to we do have a backup just in case."

"Don't want to what?" I ask her, and she smiles her odd half-smile at me again.

"If you don't want to be dressed in fire," She says

I sit up straight. "_What?_"

Later, when I'm standing with Portia and the prep team in the remake center's stables, I can't help but feel slightly exited and apprehensive at the same time. I like fire, always have, and if I don't burn to death, this will be amazing. I'm wearing a black unitard and a cape made out of the flammable material Portia has told me about, as well as a crown of the same stuff. Mera, who is besides me, is quite obviously terrified of the prospect of being lit on fire. Cinna, her stylist, another surprisingly human looking capitol person tries to calm her with soothing words. Unfortunately, her prep team, somehow, even more annoying than mine- who have come back to assist Portia but are still slightly hesitant around me, are trying to tell her of Cinna's greatness and how if she does go out in fire, at least it will look amazing.

We get directed into the last of the horse pulled carriages, being 12, and I try to ignore the mini-drama unfolding around me, and instead look over at the other tributes. Most of them look nervous about the parade, and some look even more ridiculous than district 12's usual garb.

But its the tributes from 2 that really stand out to me. They are dressed in gold armour and white clothes, their makeup done in dark colours that outline their faces and sharpen them. They are both speaking to each other easily and familiarly, unlike most pairs who ignore each other. A cold pit in my stomach makes itself known, they'll probably ally together, and it is immediately obvious to anyone with half a brain that both of them are dangerous and prepared for what is coming next.

Suddenly, the girl looks up, stares straight at me. I look away discreetly, looking around at the other tributes, but I can feel her eyes still on me. Turning back to Mera and the designers, I discover she's finally agreed to keep on the cape, but she's taking off the crown. Her hair is still elaborately done, with red, orange and yellow clips, but it would look better with the crown on.

I look around for Haymitch, but my mentor is nowhere to be found. The ceremony begins. The doors to the stable are thrown open and the music, Panems anthem, starts to play. The horses are perfectly trained, and so start to roll out in order of district. The carriage pulling the district 1 tributes rolls out first, followed by district 2. The crowds outside roar in approval. The carriages keep rolling out, and when 11 starts towards the doors, Cinna appears with a lit torch. He smiles encouragingly at Mera, and tells her "You'll do great", then lowers the torch and we're off.

As soon as the crowds see us, they go wild. I glance down at Mera and see that the crowds cheering is helping with her nerves, and she smiles and laughs and waves at them. I realise that despite her plain looks, happy and in understated makeup she looks very pretty. And the flames, though she refused to wear them on her head, illuminate us and magnify us. I catch a glimpse of myself on once of the screens. I look… both very recognisable and very unlike myself. Too clean, too made up. I hear Mera let out a small surprised "oh!" as she looks up as well, and looses her footing.

Out of instinct I grab her and steady her against me. She looks up at me in shock, and stutters out a "Thanks" before righting herself up and grabbing onto the handrails.

The crowds keep cheering around us, and maybe its the shock of being out here, or its hearing my name, "Gale! Gale" called out ecstatically by capitol citizens that puts me in a terrible mood, but the fact is, instead of waving like Mera and some of the other tributes, instead of smiling, I cross my arms and look straight ahead.

Not that ignoring them stops the cheering at all. I hear "Gale!" called out many times, and "District 12!" as well, and then, finally, we arrive at the plaza, all arranged in a semi-circle in front of President Snow's balcony.

He comes out, and the music, the capitol anthem that has been playing non-stop for about 20 minutes since the parade began finally stops.

His speech is short and repetitive, everyone has heard it a thousand times, but still the citizens cheer. He ends it with the famous catchphrase, "Happy Hunger Games".

And it might be my imagination, but as he says it I think he stares straight at me.

* * *

AN: So seeing the trailer inspired me. This is were things start to get different from the actual book, give it one or two more chapters, and then the games will actually start. Looking forward to _that_. :)


End file.
